


Slumming

by annanWaters



Series: Ninety-Two [1]
Category: Black Widow (Comics), Iron Man (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, HBIC Pepper Potts, New York City, No Angst, PWP, Prostitution, Queer Sex Work, Safe Queer Sex, Safer Sex, Sex Work, Sex Worker Character, Sex Worker Natasha Romanov, Soviet Union, Strap-Ons, condom use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-25 22:40:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12542840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annanWaters/pseuds/annanWaters
Summary: "There were times that the escorts, with their polish and discretion, were not what she needed. New York had a way of getting her blood up: when Tony was in residence on the east coast, he wasn't the only one who took strange risks and became a little less hinged. It wasn't a problem: she was still calm, cool, smilingly effective Pepper, she just had a little more fun. Played a little dirtier. Paid cash."Pepper goes shopping on the street, looking for that special something in 1990s NYC.





	Slumming

**April, 1992**

  
When Tony had found out about it, he'd made some typically asinine comment about how he never had to resort to prostitutes, but she'd ignored that. Firstly because she knew that it wasn't true, and secondly because compared to the things that he put on his expense reports, much less spent personal funds on, her little habit was nothing. She'd had a quiet word with the benefits director and the head of accounting, and they'd agreed that it could be comfortably coded as a medical expense, preventative treatment: after all, her mental health was invaluable to the company. Sometimes, incidentally, Pepper felt like 'invaluable' meant 'utterly worthless.' As a hedge against a future mental breakdown, or her resignation, or some truly disastrous outburst with legal consequences, however, Stark Industries was more than happy to foot the bill for her minor indulgence. It was practically therapy.

Apart from that, though, she had ignored Tony because she'd never thought of it as 'resorting' to anything. Pepper found that a quick call to a discreet escort agency, a couple of hours of enjoyable company, and a thoroughly satisfying, absolutely guaranteed experience in bed was far preferable to the hit and miss dating scene. Especially since her schedule hardly allowed for the kind of flexibility and commitment that an actual romantic partner would expect-- and deserve. Virginia Potts was well aware that her job was her primary, and possibly secondary, partner, and that her life was entirely too full to squeeze anyone else in. The emotional and mental energy that even a casual entanglement would require was simply not in the budget; it was a fact she'd faced years ago. So she kept an account-- under a pseudonym, of course-- with a well-organized escort service, a maddeningly full day-planner, and a clear conscience.

Pepper climbed up from the subway, anonymous in the omnipresent crowd of New York, dressed for once more barroom than boardroom. There were times, she acknowledged, breathing in the unique stink of the city, that the escorts, for all their polish and discretion, were not what she needed. They were fine for LA, or sometimes Frankfurt or even Tokyo, but New York had its own rules and demanded that she play by them. Old Gotham had a way of getting her blood up: when Tony was in residence on the east coast, he wasn't the only one who took strange risks and became a little less hinged. It wasn't a problem: she was still calm, cool, smilingly effective Pepper, she just had a little more fun. Played a little dirtier. Paid cash.

Which brought her to a certain corner in Alphabet City, nice and snug away from too many lights, away from the blatant commerce of Seventh Avenue or the Boulevard, where she knew she could get what she wanted. She'd taken care to dress the part, to advertise that she was shopping; tight skirt and low heels, green top cut low enough and not too low, severe cutaway jacket. Makeup done just so, lipstick redder than she generally wore, hair pulled up and back. Pepper was in the market for something very specific, but if one thing was true in New York, it was that you could find anything if you knew where to look.

She found it lounging against a wall, painted in the light spilling out of an all-night bodega, louche and lovely. Wavy red hair, cut high in back and spilling forward, long legs in torn jeans, black leather hanging from broad shoulders, body too relaxed to be anything but an act, an almost sulky pout playing across an inviting mouth: Pepper caught her breath and allowed herself a moment to appreciate the vision presented, the art and artifice on display. Green eyes slid over, aware of her regard, and observed Pepper with an almost insolent dispassion; she met the look with a lifted eyebrow, a simple gesture which commanded respect. She got a slow smile in reply, and then the vision spoke.

"See something you like?" Her voice was low, a little rough from cigarettes or whiskey or luck, and softly accented. Pepper stepped closer, looking the girl up and down, and inclined her head in a nod. The girl tilted her head a little, turned her body in Pepper's direction without ever actually leaving her slouch, and her expression was equal parts predator and prey. "Want to see more?"

"If you've got the time." There were steps to go through, proprieties to be observed at street level that never came up in the ostensibly more refined interactions with the call girls. Down here, they had to sound each other out, even if there was no question what they were after.

"For you?" Now the girl let herself straighten up and push away from the wall, hands still deeply in her pockets. Pepper was oddly pleased to find that even without her heels, Pepper would still be taller. "I've got all night."

"Tempting. What's your name?" This, too, was part of the game: they'd both lie, but it made it easier, their roles more realized. The girl pushed her dark red hair- probably natural, Pepper noted with some surprise, given her eyebrows and complexion- away from her forehead and jerked her chin up.

"Talia." The accent was a little stronger, lingering over the liquid vowels with loving indolence. Behind closed lips, Pepper ran her tongue over the edge of her teeth, hungry for something she didn't need to name.

"Gina." It was the name she always used, the woman she liked to be when no one was watching. She quirked a smile at the girl, raking from heavy-lidded eyes to tight tank top to the rucksack sitting just behind her. "Let's take a walk."

"Sure." She scooped up the pack and slung it over one shoulder, leading off. "My place or yours?"

Talia's place turned out to be a room in one of the old residence hotels, all the dilapidation of the Chelsea and none of the charm, but the room itself was tidy and calm. Pepper wondered if the girl kept it for business purposes, or if she lived there all the time: it wasn't smart to work where you lived, though she doubted that most of Talia's tricks would be able to find the place again in the warren of high walls and short streets. While the space was small, the attached bathroom was worth whatever Talia was paying for it, nightly or weekly: the girl flipped on a small lamp and waved, an economical gesture which managed to encompass and dismiss the whole room.

"Welcome to my castle."

They negotiated the price and Talia rattled off a short but well-rehearsed list of never-nevers-- nothing Pepper was going to ask for anyway-- and then Pepper slid her hand into that tousled hair, messing it up between her fingers. The girl smiled up at Pepper, her mouth lush with promise, eyes intent but dispassionate: a professional, good at her job, focused on it. Pepper recognized the look, and tightened her grip, desire welling up in her. She wanted to wipe that detached, insolent expression off of Talia's face, and she had a very good idea how to do so.

"So," Her drawl betrayed nothing, smooth and even, "What can I do for you?" Short and sweet-- she didn't make any suggestions, just left everything up to the mark.

Pepper appreciated the customer-oriented approach; she released the girl, looking again. "Strip." She took the opportunity to step out of her heels onto the warped wood floor, watching Talia briskly pull off her combat boots and socks, tucking them toes-in under the bed before turning back to Pepper. Then, chin up and movements deliberate, she stripped for Pepper, every inch a performance.

The leather jacket came off first, draped over the back of the single chair, revealing a white tank top-- a man's undershirt-- that clung to the curve of her breasts and hung away from her stomach. Talia ran her hands down her sides, and Pepper watched appreciatively as the girl popped her jeans open, one button at a time, before sliding them down her legs and kicking them away. She had a dancer's build: not in the way that people usually meant, thin and delicate, but a real athlete's physique, all sculpted arms and hard-muscled thighs. Bare except for the tank top, she was plainly aware of the effect she had: Pepper realized, with some amusement, that her initial impression had been correct- she was a real redhead. Then Talia peeled the shirt off, revealing a spider tattoo just to one side of her navel, defined abdominals and intercostals, and firm breasts capped by rosy nipples.

Pepper made a universal gesture, and the girl rose on her toes and turned in response, revealing another tattoo below the swell of her ass, which Pepper couldn't quite make out but intended to investigate. She moved to close the small distance between them as the girl came to face her again, naked but for the necklace which rested just at the notch in her collarbone. Pepper reached out with curious fingers to touch it, an amber bead knotted onto a cord beside a drilled coin; Talia's hand covered hers, stilling her fingers but not moving them away.

"That stays on." This delivered in the same calm voice as the other non-negotiables, a tone not unlike the one Pepper had used too many times on Tony, or playing gatekeeper for him.

She wasn't going to dispute it, nodding and turning it over as the girl's hand fell away. She didn't recognize the coin, defaced and marked in an alphabet she couldn't read. "What is it?" The bead might have been real amber, she realized, cool and heavy as she let her fingers drift away from it and toward the tempting skin of Talia's chest.

Those red lips twitched up in another secret smile, and Talia's answer was soft and rough at the same time. "A whore's ransom."

Pepper palmed the curve of her breast, let her other hand come up to rest against the girl's waist, noting the firm muscle that tightened beneath her touch. Pepper wanted to see that body, those muscles, in action: Pepper stepped away and sank into the chair, fingertips sliding down Talia's sides. One of them brushed the spider tattoo in passing and the girl twitched, so Pepper did it again, tracing over the legs and bloated abdomen, rendered in crude black lines. This time she almost jerked against the touch, shifting her stance and bringing her further into the low light of the lamp, but she made no move to stop Pepper.

"Where did you get that?" There were rules about this sort of thing, and she was coming dangerously close to breaking them: if she'd been with a call girl, she never would have asked. But the rules were different in a New York flophouse, so she let Talia decide if she was going to answer.

"A long way from here." Pepper leaned in to kiss it, to run her tongue over it: Talia didn't move, but her voice hitched just a little as she continued, "In prison."

Delighting in the warm skin under her mouth, Pepper didn't say anything for a moment, just kissed lazily up Talia's taut stomach. The girl smelled of sweat, and smoke, something clear and bright-- baby powder, maybe-- and an unmistakable muskiness. The contrast made Pepper smile, and then she broke the rules. "What did you do?"

Maybe Talia didn't know the rules. Maybe she didn't care, or maybe she was lying, playing the game differently. In any case, Pepper felt the body she leaned against shift as the girl shrugged, then replied, "Stood still too long."

"Hmm." Reluctantly, Pepper pulled away, promising herself more. There was something she wanted to see first. "Fuck yourself for me. I want to watch you."

Talia cocked her head, posture completely open, studying Pepper. "Here, or on the bed?"

"Right here. On the floor, on your knees so I can see everything." She licked her lips, picturing it, and crossed her legs with a whisper of stockings that made everything tingle. Talia kept that calculating gaze on her for just a little longer, then sank gracefully to her knees, reaching over to grab something out of her bag. She held up a short, thick dildo, not terribly realistic and quite a nice shade of blue, and lifted her eyebrows questioningly: receiving Pepper's pleased nod, she grabbed a condom too. The way Talia put a rubber on a fake cock, Pepper decided, was obscene in all the best ways.

The way she rocked up on her knees and drew it down between her legs was even better. A born performer, Talia kept her eyes on Pepper's as she ran the head of the dildo between her lips, spreading herself open over and over before she finally dragged it back to her entrance, holding it still and sinking down onto it with the barest gasp. Pepper couldn't stop the groan in her throat as she shifted forward in the chair, leaning away from the lamp on the table to give Talia the spotlight she deserved. She started slow, first just letting herself slide all the way down, taking it to the hilt, bare ass against the floor: a moment to adjust and she rolled her hips forward, one arm extended behind her for balance as she held the dick in place, pulling herself up the shaft and then sliding back down again.

As requested, Pepper could see everything: the flushed pink of the girl's pussy a sharp contrast to her pale thighs, lips spread and clit hard; the muscles in her arm, and stomach, and legs flexing as she thrust down again and again; the look of determination on the girl's face as she took it all the way and pulled off until just the bulbous head held her open. Pepper groaned again as Talia shifted, taking a different grip on the dildo and bringing it up to her, pumping the thing in and out with her legs wide open. She didn't bother with any more teasing, fucking herself hard and deep, starting to speed up, the only sounds in the room their harsh breathing and the wet smack of the dildo in Talia's pussy. Her eyes closed at last, squeezing tight as she drove the cock in, jerking her hips forward at the same time, really slamming herself in front of Pepper; aware of the wet heat between her legs, Pepper slid forward on the chair, watching with parted lips as the girl drove herself toward at least the appearance of an orgasm.

Teeth clamped down on her lower lip, Talia let her head fall back, but that wasn't what had Pepper squirming in her seat; it wasn't the way she stopped breathing as she accelerated one more time, or the increasingly sloppy sounds from her abused cunt; it wasn't even the way the spider tattoo jumped and twitched along with the muscles of her stomach as she crashed down once, twice, three times. Talia trembled, ass against her heels, hand slipped away from the cock that remained deep inside her, weight on strained thighs and the arm still behind her, wrecked and lovely, but that wasn't enough. What set Pepper on fire was the sight of her rent girl pushing back up onto her knees, eyes dark but fixed on Pepper's once more, and pulling the thick shaft out of herself: what made Pepper clench her thighs together was the little drip, evidence that couldn't be faked, that spilled out of the girl's pussy as she removed the intruder.

"Come here." Somehow, she got the words out, voice a low rasp. Talia nodded, laying the tool aside and crawling forward on her hands and knees, pert breasts and hard nipples swaying only a little with the motion. "Warm me up."

Pepper pushed all the way to the edge of the chair, raised her skirt, and tangled her hands in the girl's thick red hair. It was a little coarse, a little greasy, but it wrapped itself around her fingers as she guided Talia's mouth to her. No hesitation, Talia traced her tongue up one thigh, kissed the strap of her garter, then moved over the tendon, nipping at the soft spot that was just south of her pussy: fully aware that only surface tension was keeping her from slicking all over the skirt, Pepper still allowed the girl to set the pace. She was a professional, after all. It would be discourteous to tell her how to do her job. When Talia raised her hands to Pepper's knees, smoothing up her legs, and Pepper felt the first lazy swipe of her tongue along her outer lips, she knew she'd made the right decision. She let her shoulders settle against the back of the chair, thrusting her hips further toward the girl, and slipped deeper into the moment, getting her money's worth.

Talia was certainly talented: she used her lips and teeth as well as her tongue, nibbling and sucking on Pepper's labia, opening her with long strokes, fluttering her tongue over Pepper's folds as her hands kept Pepper's thighs apart. On her knees, Talia worshiped, and Pepper closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling. Before long, she'd stroked and sucked Pepper to a humming high, and then her tongue slid up and around Pepper's clit, teasing it out of its hood and spreading her considerable wetness over it. Pepper bucked in response, the little circles around her clit spreading a welcome warmth through her core, down her legs and into her stomach. It tingled and burned, made her pulse pound in her heels, filled her veins with liquid gold: it was a delicious, heavy feeling, one that Pepper knew couldn't make her come but would leave her primed and ready.

Content, apparently, to eat Pepper all night, Talia varied her technique but didn't push, didn't outright suck her clit or offer to finger her- none of the things that would tip Pepper over the edge. With her hands rough in the girl's hair, Pepper hummed her approval: she'd asked to be warmed up, not worked over, and that's what she was getting. Still, she jogged her hips a little, hissing as Talia's nose nudged against her clit, and held her a fraction tighter. Moaning something low- possibly not even words, Pepper thought, luxuriating in the gentle buzz against her pussy- Talia moved her tongue into Pepper, humming and thrusting before sliding it back out in favor of once more lapping and teasing at her folds. She repeated the maneuver several times, until Pepper was a wet, ready mess, and then allowed Pepper's grip to guide her up and away from the sweetness between her legs.

The sight of Talia, lipstick left somewhere on Pepper's thighs and snatch, out of breath and wet with her from chin to cheekbones, made Pepper growl. She was beautiful, Pepper decided, debauched and unashamed and utterly lovely. Slender fingers pulled sharply, lifting Talia off of her haunches: leaning forward to bring their faces closer, Pepper felt the rent girl stiffen. No kissing on the mouth was a constant, universal and unchanging from the perfectly manicured escorts to the rough and ready streetwalkers-- that would be breaking the rules. Pepper smiled into Talia's eyes and slowly dragged her tongue over the girl's chin and mouth, tasting herself and moaning.

One long swipe was all she permitted herself, though, before releasing Talia and motioning her to withdraw. Rising to her feet, Pepper reached behind herself and unzipped the skirt, letting it fall around her ankles as she moved on to the buttons of her blouse, all brisk efficiency as she stared down at Talia. "That was lovely," Pepper brushed her fingers over the girl's hair again, her shirt hanging open before she shrugged it and the jacket off onto the chair. "And now we're all done warming up."

There was something about the height advantage, Pepper mused, watching Talia stand up: already a tall woman, Pepper spent most of her days jacked up in four inch heels to ensure her psychological effect on the sexist twits she dealt with at work. Now, in her stocking feet before the shorter woman, she felt secure in her power, her position; she could afford to be gracious. Pepper settled onto the bed first, acutely aware of the picture she presented in matching bra and garters, and beckoned the girl down to her. The bra stayed on- she wasn't over-endowed, but she appreciated not bouncing around in the throes of passion. The mattress dipped as Talia added her warm weight to it, crawling artfully up Pepper's body, knees between Pepper's legs.

Pepper gripped the girl's hips, ran over the swell of her ass and moved lower, cupping her powerful thighs. The wetness which coated her inner thighs made Pepper smile, recalling her to what she'd been about to say. "You have a strap for that thing?"

"Of course." Talia twisted above her, reaching down over the side of the bed without supporting herself, and retrieved harness, dick, and a new condom, which she donned with commendable expertise. Pepper watched while she worked, then raised her knees, feet flat on the thin mattress, and smiled again.

"Now. Come here and fuck me."

The girl didn't hesitate. From her position between Pepper's spread knees, she arched her body over the taller woman, running her hands up Pepper's back and letting her elbows sink into the mattress to take her weight. With a pirate's smile, she lifted her hips and rolled forward, the thick tool sliding confidently and deep into Pepper's aching pussy. For her part, Pepper groaned her approval and pushed back, setting the pace: Talia followed her lead, steady and deep and not too fast, a pace she gave every indication of being able to maintain as long as Pepper needed it. And Pepper did need it, needed to be distracted from the bullshit and the stress of her daily life, reminded that under all that careful positioning and psychological warfare she was still human; needed to be isolated in a little room where nothing mattered but her pleasure; needed to be fucked until she was just a body, a happy, warm body without a care in the world.

It wouldn't last, but that didn't mean she couldn't have it for a little while: that had been one of the first lessons she'd had to learn, living at their accelerated pace. The fact that she would have to get up, fix her makeup, and wade back into the morass of meetings and contract negotiations and public relations and damage control did not invalidate her desire for these interludes, and it didn't mean she had to give them up. Sometimes, Pepper wondered if that wasn't the principle behind all of Tony's behavior, but frankly that was probably giving the man too much credit for introspection. In the meantime, however, she had an absolutely stunning Slavic-sounding redhead plowing her sweetly and thoroughly, doing her level best to drive her out of her mind. Since out of her mind was where Pepper wanted to go, she relaxed and let her drive.

When she came the first time, she laughed and grabbed Talia's ass again, massaging the firm flesh but not allowing the girl to withdraw. "More," she husked, nipping at the girl's ear, "Harder."

Talia gripped her by the shoulders, arms still under her back, and pulled Pepper down onto the fake cock, until she bottomed out, until Pepper was grinding against her hips and the leather of her harness, clit throbbing happily. She slid out slowly, dragging herself out of Pepper, and then did it again. And again, and again, getting faster with every stroke and not letting up at all, which was exactly what Pepper needed, and when she came the second time she left claw marks across Talia's back and her shout was hoarse and exultant. Then, she wrapped her legs around Talia's trim waist and pushed herself forward, riding the girl down in a tangle of limbs from which Pepper emerged on top.

The body below her was terribly inviting, a light sweat glistening on pale skin: Pepper pushed damp hair-- trapped forever between blond and red-- out of her eyes, just staring for a moment, before she brought her hands down to Talia's stomach. She traced the tattoo again, then ran her fingers lightly over her ribs and up to cup her breasts. The rich flesh was warm in her hands, the contrast between the smooth skin and the hard, proud nipples electric as she brushed her palms over them. Biting her lip, Pepper rolled and twisted one of those firm nubs between thumb and fingers, pulling it up slowly before releasing it, then repeating the move on the other nipple. Talia's breathing sped up as she continued, Pepper massaging the girl's breasts, enjoying their texture, before sliding her hands back down over the redhead's flanks.

She braced herself there, taut muscles thrumming under her touch, and then rocked herself forward on the dildo still buried deeply within her. The new angle hit places which had so far been left untouched and Pepper did it again, let herself moan a little louder, finally letting go. Not that she'd ever tell-- or have anyone to tell it to, despite Tony's constant attempts to draw her out about her sex life-- but femme superior happened to be her favorite position: the depth was delicious, of course, and so was the control, but what she really liked was that she looked great doing it. When she straddled someone and rode them-- man, woman, it didn't matter-- Pepper was all they were going to see, and she knew that. Knew that when she threw her head back and raised herself on her knees, she was a goddess in a cheap room; knew that Talia's hands on her waist and hips rising to meet her were a form of adoration; knew that she'd wiped that look off of the girl's face.

Slowly, Pepper rocked herself up and down, letting it build, letting herself rest against Talia's tense thighs in between strokes. It was always better when she took her time. Soon enough, she'd be crashing her hips down with every stroke, grinding hard and hot, and then bouncing with both hands behind her head, abs and knees taking the strain. For the moment, though, she drew herself up and down with a firm, languorous stroke, watching Talia as the girl chewed her lower lip and pushed up eagerly into her rhythm. She felt the girl bring her knees up, planting her feet behind Pepper to give her more leverage, and Pepper smiled wickedly, rolling her head back on her shoulders, arching already. This was going to be fun.

Talia ran her hands up Pepper's body, from her waist to her breasts, and started massaging them in time with their thrusts, rough over the fabric of her bra. For her part, Pepper reached back and put her hands on Talia's knees, bracing herself against the girl as she increased her pace. Her nipples burned under the girl's fingers, becoming part of the pulsing, throbbing pleasure which consumed her. Another thrust, all the way down this time, hips pushed forward so that Pepper was practically lying against Talia's legs, and they hit that spot deep inside her, the one that always made her lose control. Pepper shuddered, then did it again, longing for the release, for the pleasure that was almost pain.

When Talia had pulled herself upright, Pepper didn't know, but there was a point, chasing her orgasm with punishing ferocity, when Pepper became aware of the girl's arms around her back and her chest pressed against her stomach. It was hot, sweaty, desperate: Talia's mouth was wet on her skin, anywhere she could reach, biting and licking and kissing; Talia's arms were strong around her, anchoring Pepper as she jerked her hips in frantic, shallow thrusts. Finally, it was enough, and it became too much: stretched taut as a bowstring, Pepper succumbed to the deep, aching pleasure with a desperate groan and a long shudder. Talia didn't let go of her, though, running those strong hands over her again and again, slowly rolling her over and easing out of her, letting their bodies rest together on the bed.

The shaking slowly subsided, Pepper amazed by the sheer power of her orgasm, and she came back to herself. Talia was still touching her, lightly, fingertips against Pepper's arm, waiting for her to recover. She'd taken off the cock at some point, Pepper noted, shifting a little closer to the girl and resting a hand on her thigh. The heat coming off of her was almost enough to startle Pepper as she stroked the flushed, fair skin, tickling over her thigh and up to her stomach. The sight of the spider tattoo reminded her of the other one, briefly glimpsed, and she licked her lips.

"Roll over." It was sinful, criminal, the way Talia made an indolent gesture like rolling over in bed into an art form. Confronted with the lightly freckled skin of her back and ass, Pepper traced the scratches she'd left there, long shallow scrapes along her spine and shoulders, then followed the swell of her hip down until her fingers traced the girl's other tattoo. Also black, the same blunt lines as the spider but more sure, it was a simple pentagon with something like the Chrysler logo and the letters 'CCCP' inside. Pepper watched as Talia's skin and muscles twitched in response to her teasing, fascinated by how sensitive her tattoos seemed to be.

"What is it?" There was something familiar about the mark, so definitively Soviet. The good old evil empire had possessed a very distinctive style, if nothing else.

Talia pushed back a little against the caress, and Pepper's fingers strayed from the tattoo down toward the juncture of her thighs. "The seal of approval. For highest quality goods only." Her voice was still smooth, confident, but Pepper made the connection to what she said about the other one-- a long way from here, in prison, stood still too long-- and she could guess what filled in some of the gaps. That was a little too real. That was why there were rules in the first place, but New York always made her want to bend them.

She took a moment, hand resting on Talia's back, letting them both retreat from the moment of clarity, before she pulled herself closer again. They weren't quite close enough to touch, though Pepper's breasts just brushed against Talia's skin when she took a deep breath; relishing the heat between them, Pepper slipped her fingers between the girl's thighs, finding her wet again. Some girls were like that. She liked girls like that. Pepper pushed gently, Talia shifting a little forward, letting her leg drift up to give Pepper the room she needed, and then she slid easily into the girl's wet heat.

This was the part that no one knew about. The agency she used had both men and women available, but she had never asked for a man and no one who knew about Pepper's habit had ever asked her what her preferences were. Tony probably suspected, because Tony had the kind of mind that suspected everyone of everything, when it came to sex, but even if he had, he wouldn't have pictured this. He'd imagine Pepper getting well fucked, yes, because that was an image he carried around in his head for when meetings got boring, along with Rhodey drunk on the mechanical bull, which he'd actually seen once. He'd craft lovingly detailed and highly inaccurate scenarios of her with some other gorgeous specimen, all high heels and lipstick, but no one would imagine her burying two fingers inside a woman and moaning because she loved how it felt. Everyone who'd ever met her got the impression that Virginia Potts needed to unwind, but none of them really knew how she liked to do that. No, this was between her and the women she took to bed: that in order to really enjoy herself, Pepper needed to be taken and take in her turn.

Talia lay quiet, almost on her front, one hip canted up just a little, head resting on her crossed arms, letting Pepper explore. Pepper dragged her fingers back, all the way out for a moment, and painted over that tattoo before sliding back in. The girl's shiver went straight to Pepper's core, so she moved up and pressed closer: right hand occupied, Pepper let her weight rest on Talia's body and slid her left over Talia's arms, grasping one of her fists as she rocked in and out. This was intimacy, this bittersweet collision of two bodies, molded together as Pepper took and Talia let her. She felt the girl's skin, her breath, the tightness of her cunt and the trembling of her muscles, and Pepper memorized it all, took it in and let it map over her body until they were breathing together, shaking together.

Breath became gasps, became moans, and eventually, three fingers deep, Pepper thrilled to the feeling of having her rent girl groaning and panting underneath her. Sweat slicked between them, pooling under Pepper's breasts and behind Talia's knees, but she didn't stop, not even when she felt the girl's pussy clench and pulse around her knuckles, not even when Talia's hips jerked against the mattress and Pepper rode the motion, grinding down onto her ass. Instead, she gentled her stroke, waited until Talia's breath evened and deepened, and then began again: she put her thigh behind her hand this time, pressed and ground into the girl until she could feel how deep she was, until she couldn't feel anything else.

It was quiet, it was hard: it was so good it hurt. Talia strained into her hand, face pressed into the mattress and hips tilted up, and Pepper left the girl's ass wet and raw where she ground against it. Pepper covered her, left hand still clutching her clenched fist, legs twined together, body to shaking body, and then when Talia sobbed into the bed, just once, and all of her muscles clamped down around Pepper's invading fingers, Pepper came again. Both of them jerked and shuddered, riding it out in their own private, locked worlds, and then it was finally over.

There was no sudden flash of shame, no desperate scrabbling for clothing: Pepper lay back, fingers wet, pulse throbbing in her heels and her cunt and her chest, and relaxed. When it faded, when the breathlessness and the raw, exposed feeling was gone, all that remained was the satisfaction. Then, and only then, she sat up and stretched, wiping her fingers on the sheet and looking over at the girl who'd earned every penny of her fee. Talia looked unconcerned with her own nudity, game face back in place even with her hair tangled in her eyes and her legs still slightly parted.

Pepper reached out and smoothed the hair away from the girl's forehead, feeling her eyes crinkle at the corners in a smile that was very nearly crying, the post-coital _tristesse_ to which she was unfortunately subject welling up in her chest. Green eyes blinked up at her and Pepper stifled the urge to say something absurd like 'thank you' or 'that was wonderful,' or even to offer to hire her again. They were in New York for another three days, after all, and Pepper could more than afford to book her for every night. She had obligations, though, work to do and never enough time to do it in, so she couldn't excuse the indulgence more than just this once. Instead, once the heavy tenderness had passed, she licked her lips and tried for a light tone.

"I don't suppose I could trouble you for a cigarette?" Virginia Potts didn't smoke, except when she did.

In answer, the girl rolled upright and reached over to where her rucksack lay on the floor. She dug around for a moment, Pepper admiring the view, and then turned back with a packet of Lucky Strikes and a lighter. She shook one out-- unfiltered, Pepper noticed-- and lit it, taking a long drag before handing it to Pepper and going to open the window. The length of a cigarette was enough for Talia to pull her shirt back on and go fix her makeup in the bathroom, and then it was Pepper's turn. There were quite a few hours left in the night: pulling her hair back up into a ponytail she wondered if the girl was going out again, or if she'd rest on what she'd made from Pepper. It was idle curiosity only, but she still wondered.

When she came back into the room, buttoned up and perfectly presentable, Talia was sitting on the windowsill, bare-assed in her undershirt, smoking a cigarette of her own. The girl turned her head a little to regard Pepper, then ashed out the window.

"I meant it, you know." Her voice was low, a little hoarse, an unnecessary reminder of how they'd spent their time together.

"I'm sorry?" Pepper was stepping back into her shoes and stopped, one on one off, balanced a little precariously.

"For you, I've got all night. You certainly paid for it." It was said so casually, accompanied by a little shrug as the girl took another drag. Pepper considered her for a moment: certainly, when they'd agreed on a price it had been, as Talia had put it, for 'the whole package,' but Pepper hadn't really thought of it as booking the night. She never stayed out all night: it gave Happy ulcers, for one thing, and people tended to panic when they couldn't reach her at half past five in the morning. Staggering in at noon or sneaking in at dawn were both Tony things: Pepper, reliable, responsible Pepper, was always on call precisely because that was Tony all over, it was how he was built and nothing was ever going to change him, so the people around him had to compensate for his behavior. She could afford to grab an hour here or there, but going off the radar for eight hours was out of the question.

For some reason she couldn't get her other shoe on straight; sighing, she sank down in the chair to take the strain off of her admittedly tired thighs. Realizing that she hadn't actually replied, Pepper fished a smile up from somewhere and said, "It's good of you to offer, but I think another round might kill me." The idea didn't lack appeal, but it was unfortunately not an option.

Talia's laughter was unexpected, full, throaty. "I'm flattered." A cigarette, Pepper acknowledged, was an excellent way to keep control over the pace of a conversation, as well as convenient device for maintaining physical or mental distance and an excuse to light something on fire in public. The girl took another drag, amusing herself with the smoke, and then remarked, "You could just stay. It's a nice night, for once."

The breeze from outside attested to that, not too hot or too cold for once in the city of extremes. Pepper kicked off her heels again, focused on straightening her toe seams as she thought about the offer. Finally, she simply asked, "Why?"

Dark eyes on her, the girl shrugged. "Forgive me for saying, but you? Seem like the star pupil skipping class. I'm just offering a place to hide from the teacher." She actually winked then flicked the end of her cigarette out the window. "Whatever it is, it can wait until morning."

The dim yellow light of the lamp cast everything in a strange relief, and Pepper looked from the girl in the window to her shoes on the floor. It was irresponsible and unprofessional, self-indulgent, childish, and utterly against the rules. She smiled, left her shoes where they were, and leaned forward to pull another cigarette from the pack on the table.


End file.
